


Hi, Mr. Tall Man

by fettuccine_alfreylo



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Phone Calls & Telephones, Phone Sex, Secret Identity, Sorry Not Sorry, Strangers to Lovers, Sugar Daddy, cockblocking by the author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:21:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22483267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fettuccine_alfreylo/pseuds/fettuccine_alfreylo
Summary: This is a companion piece to a Daddy Long Legs AU textfic I’ve been writing on Twitter calledTo: Mr. Tall Man. Reading it first will probably help this make the most sense.3/19/2020: This was originally 6 shorter chapters, but I’ve combined them for easier readability.Thank you to @curiousniffin on Twitter for the gorgeous moodboard ♥️ Enjoy!
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 38
Kudos: 465





	Hi, Mr. Tall Man

**Author's Note:**

> This is a companion piece to a Daddy Long Legs AU textfic I’ve been writing on Twitter called [To: Mr. Tall Man](https://twitter.com/alfreylo/status/1220916023907569664?s=21). Reading it first will probably help this make the most sense.
> 
> **3/19/2020: This was originally 6 shorter chapters, but I’ve combined them for easier readability.**
> 
> Thank you to @curiousniffin on Twitter for the gorgeous moodboard ♥️ Enjoy!

***

“Bazine?”

“Mhm?”

He ignores her flippant reply and the way she doesn’t look up from her nail file when he approaches her desk. She’s a hard worker and the best damn assistant he’s ever had, so he’s made his peace with her peculiarities long ago. 

“Cancel all European calls tonight.”

Without even consulting the large schedule up on her computer screen, she starts listing off everything he should be doing tonight but won’t be. The Berlin office needs him to OK the cover for a translation they’re publishing. There’s a convention in Paris that wants him as a guest speaker. Worst of all, the series that is being adapted to Netflix has its premiere in London and he’s been invited to attend.

But no way is he dealing with all of that tonight. No fucking way. 

“Reschedule everything and go home. It’s getting late.” 

“On it.” 

He doesn’t linger. Straight back into his office he goes. With a click of a remote, the blinds on every window lower. Some would call it excessive, but this feature is worth every penny. He works best when he has privacy.

Hopefully the same idea applies to this phone call he’s about to make. 

He eyes his cellphone warily, perched on the very edge of his desk. He’s checked it more times in the past week than he thinks he ever has since first purchasing it. That’s what she’s done to him. The effect she has on him. Making him try things he’s never been comfortable with. And after the absolutely horrific turn of events last night, he’s now more determined than ever to step out of his comfort zone for her. He’ll do just about anything to ensure her continued happiness — starting with explaining himself. Coming clean. 

His hands trembling only the slightest amount, he navigates to their text conversation. Then, with one last uttered ‘fuck’, he hits the voice call button at the top of the screen just under her contact picture. 

The phone rings out only twice before he hears the static of background noise.

She’s picked up.

Her voice, even more dulcet than he remembers, speaks first. 

“Hi, Mr. Tall Man.” 

Ben swallows thickly, steeling himself for what’s to come. 

“Rey. Hello.” 

She _giggles_ , and he clenches his fist on the desk. Fuck, if that isn’t the cutest fucking sound he’s ever heard. 

“Your voice is deep. Like, really deep.” 

“Uh. Thanks.”

“And also sounds familiar. You’re not a celebrity or something, are you? Because...God, how embarrassing, since I’ve acted like an idiot since we started texting. Telling you every little boring thing about me that probably doesn’t matter. That would be just my luck, wouldn’t it? For you to be some very important actor or musician or politician. Someone in the public eye. Is that why you’re so secretive? So busy?”

She’s talking a mile a minute and he’s already having trouble keeping up with her. Best just get to the bottom of this quickly, then. He’ll do his best to answer all other questions she has afterwards — if she still even wants to talk to him, that is. There’s a very real possibility that she’ll be angry with him, enraged that he’s kept this from her for this long but...he has to. He has to be honest. 

“Not an actor or musician or politician, no. Sometimes in the public eye, yes. Unfortunately. I avoid it when possible.”

“HAH, I knew it! Some other kind of public figure, then?” She hums, thinking it over. “You’re not like...Elon Musk’s brother, right? Because he seems like such an asshole. No offense if that’s the case but I’m hoping—”

“Rey, Rey. I need to say this. I’m sorry to interrupt, but there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Me too.” Her breath hitches and that gives him pause, makes him lose his train of thought.

“What?”

“Yeah.” Her voice is breathier now, higher pitched. Like she’s very, very nervous. As nervous as he feels. “Um. Mr. Tall man...Sir? I’m just going to call you Sir for this, okay? It’s less awkward than continually saying Mr. Tall Man outloud and — yeah. Anyways.”

She huffs out a little sigh, and Ben’s brain only partly registers how distressed she sounds — because it’s stuck on Sir. She called him _Sir_. His cock _throbs_ , taking immediate attention. Oh, fuck. _Fuck_. 

“Sir—” She continues, and he hears rustling on her end. Some kind of movement. “C-check your texts. I...I just took a picture for you. Of my panties. I’m taking them off now.” More movement, followed by another breathy sigh.

“And now I think - I think you should take off your clothes, too.” 

Silence follows. 

One second.

Two.

Three. 

Ben opens and closes his mouth, trying to get words out, but nothing. Nothing’s happening. He can’t speak. He can’t breathe. He can’t think. 

“Are you...still there?” 

Something like a wheeze escapes from his mouth this time around, but that’s it. 

“Oh. Oh God. Did I - did I misunderstand this whole thing? You sent that text today. The one about - about us evolving? Whatever this is. Friendship. _Relationship_. You said relationship, and I thought - _Oh. GOD_. I was wrong, wasn’t I? You just meant...our professional relationship, right? Or whatever you want to call it.”

He thinks he hears her stifle a sob. 

“I’m an _idiot_. I’m so - so stupid. This is the WORST thing I’ve ever done in my life, the worst decision. I am so, so sorry for - for _everything_ , _God_. I think I’m going to hang up now, okay? And if you never speak to me again, that will be just fine by me, because I’m going to just crawl into a hole and die now anyways so—”

“Rey. Wait.” 

_Finally_ , he’s regained his speech. 

Hands full-on shaking now, his sweaty fingers making streaks on the screen, he minimizes their call screen to navigate to iMessage. To their texts. 

And there it is. 

There she is. 

Blue lace panties low on her hips. Her slender hand, fingernails painted cherry red, inching towards the waistband. 

Fumbling, he presses the phone to his ear again. She’s babbling nonsense, hardly making any sense, sounding like she’s on the verge of hysterics. 

“—Because my friend Rose is in a relationship and she usually has a good intuition about these things so when she said that, that we might be in a relationship without me knowing I thought, maybe? God, maybe? I want that. _Wanted_ that. A lot. So I took a risk and went out and bought that _stupid_ lingerie and now I am truly Boo Boo The Fool, I’ve never had more Boo Boo The Fool Energy than I do right now, Oh my _GOD_ —”

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” 

There’s a gasp on the other line, followed by what sounds like a hiccup. 

Then: “W-what?”

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

***

She’d been expecting him to hang up. To block her number and be done with her bullshit. With all of her jumping to conclusions and rash behavior. She’s normally so careful, so cautious, but ever since he’s entered her life and turned her ordinary world upside down, she’s been a complete and utter mess of emotions. Wanting someone she can’t have, someone so far out of reach that she knows fuck all about him, not even his name. But she’s _dreamt_ of knowing more. Of them being more. Much more than strangers. She’s dreamt of him opening up to her, of him returning her feelings, making this one-sided attraction of hers mutual. 

And now - now he’s said _that_. To her. Told her she’s _beautiful_. It feels like a dream, another dream she’s had about him, but her thundering heartbeat tells her otherwise. This is real. This is happening. 

Still, she can’t quite believe it. 

“W-what?”

“I said you’re fucking beautiful. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever - _fuck_ , Rey. Sweetheart. You’re driving me fucking crazy.”

“...I am?” 

Her stomach flips at his words, at his gruff sounding voice. _Sweetheart_. He just called her sweetheart. 

“You have... _no_ idea what you do to me. What you’ve been doing to me. I—” He breaks off, muttering more curses under his breath. 

Encouraged, Rey exhales shakily, summoning her courage. “Did you - did you like it?”

“What?”

“The pic. The picture. Is it good?”

“Is it - are you hearing yourself? That picture - it’s all I’ll ever be able to look at for the rest of my life, Rey. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” 

Perfect. He thinks she’s perfect. How is this happening, how is this now her life? What she’s done to deserve this, to deserve _him_ , she has no idea. But she’s not going to freak out over this, not anymore. She can’t. No more shying away, no more doubting herself. She has to keep this going because she wants him. So, so much. So much that it makes her dizzy. 

“I can send you more. More pictures. However many more you want. Can I? Would you like that? I bought so many pairs of panties today. I can wear them all for you,” she rushes out, her skin already so feverish. She cups her bare breast, closing her eyes, pretending her hand is his. “I can take them all off for you, too, Sir.” 

“Jesus _fuck_. You’re going to kill me. I can’t believe this is - Rey, I need to tell you something.” He huffs out a breath, sounding pained. “Last night—”

“I know what you’re going to say. I meant it. I meant every word I said in those texts. I care about you and not just as a friend. Obviously. If the sharing-a-panties-pic with you wasn’t enough of a clue.” 

She huffs out a small laugh, and she swears she can hear him groan. Rey pulls on her nipple, breath hitching, imagining how that groan would feel against her skin. Would he make the same sounds as he explored her body? Tasting her? Is he a vocal lover or a quiet one? She wants to find out. 

“Sir. Do you know what I’m doing right now?”

“Rey—”

“I’m touching myself. Touching my breasts. And thinking of you doing the same to me,” she pants, too impatient to allow him time to answer the question. She’s too greedy for his reaction, wants to hear it right away. 

Another groan, louder this time, followed by a string of expletives. Lots of ‘fucks’ and ‘shits’ thrown around with familiarity. 

Definitely vocal, then. 

Hearing him lose control so swiftly makes her blood sing. He seems so authoritative over texts, completely calm and collected. He doesn’t sound so calm and collected now. It’s far more erotic than she could have ever anticipated, hearing him unravel, and she needs more. 

“Sir. Are you alone?”

More cursing, followed by a yes. 

“I think you should touch yourself. Like how I’m doing. We should—” She wets her lips, trailing her hands down from her chest to her hipbones, her fingertips just barely touching her panties. “We should touch ourselves at the same time.”

“I’m going to fucking pass out.”

He all but snaps it, sounding so frustrated. She loves it.

“You can’t pass out yet. I want to cum with you first. I want you to make me cum and I want to make you cum.”

“You’re a fucking menace,” he bites out, accompanied by something that sounds like a belt clinking, and her stomach flips all again at that. Oh, God. He’s actually doing it. 

She has to remember how to breathe as she slips her hand beneath the waistband, finding her clit with practiced ease. “What - what would you do to me, to make me pay for it?”

“Pay for it?”

“For - for being a menace. Being bad and teasing you.” Her voice sounds breathless and high-pitched to her own ears, desperate and needy. She rubs herself fast, quickly losing herself to the fantasy she’s created of him. Tall, dark, handsome. Like that friend of Hux’s at the club, only so much better. This man would never act like that one. This man - _hers_ \- she knows he would treat her right. 

“I wouldn’t - I wouldn’t make you pay,” he gasps out, each word said in a short staccato, in time to a rhythm she can’t see but instinctively knows is happening. He’s stroking himself. Touching himself to the thought of her. 

“Why not?”

“B-because - _fuck_ \- you have me wrapped around your finger and I can’t deny you anything. I don’t want to.” 

“If I asked, though? For you to punish me? Would you?” 

“ _Fuck_ , baby.” 

“Would you?”

“Yes!”

“What would you do?” 

She’s close, she’s so close already, and she only needs to be pushed a little more to get there. She waits, holding her breath, for him to elaborate. 

“I’d - I’d bend you over my knee and turn your pert little ass pink,” he rasps.

She can picture it so clearly. Him at a desk, immaculately dressed in a suit, while she’s completely naked for him, getting spanked so thoroughly the sound reverberates off the walls.

“Oh God. _Please_. Please do that to me. What else?”

“Then I would - goddammit, _FUCK_! - I’d lick your pretty pink cunt until you were moaning and begging for me. Crying out my name.”

 _His name_. God, she wants to know his name. So badly. It would make this so much more real, much more intimate. 

“I want that. I want that so much. I want _you_ so much but I don’t even know what to call you. What’s your name? Please?”

He pauses at that, breathing harshly, so she tries again. “Please?”

“Ben. It’s Ben.” 

***

“Ben.” He can hear the smile in her voice, the way she sighs so sweetly through the phone — and it’s enough to break through the crazed, explicit direction his thoughts are headed. 

How many times has he dreamed about her calling him that? Not the funny, teasing nicknames she's given him, but his actual name? 

How many times has he woken up, hard and aching, wishing that he could have her in his arms? That he could call her his own? Not just the pretty barista in the coffeeshop whose tuition he pays, but something more than that? His person, his woman, his girlfriend, his everything. 

_His_. 

He wants that so much. More than he’s ever wanted anything in his life. 

So he can’t keep going along with this, withholding information from her. It’s cruel to stop here, to put an end to this incredible moment between them - but it doesn’t feel right. It would be even more cruel to keep this going, to find their release together, only to blindside her later. He doesn’t want to take advantage of her. She deserves so much more than that. Than this. Than phone sex. Their first time together - God, he _hopes_ that there is a first time after this - it’s going to be face-to-face, and he’s going to take so much time with her. So much care of her. Nothing rushed, nothing hasty. 

***

“Rey, we need to stop.”

Those words are like a bucket of icewater over her overheated skin. Her eyes open, the fantasy of them together abandoned in her head. 

“...What?”

She quickly sits up in bed, wiping off her fingers - slick with desire for him, for _Ben_ , this man she’s fallen for.

She feels nauseous all of a sudden, her stomach somersaulting again but for all the wrong reasons this time. 

“Did I...do something wrong?” 

“God, no. Rey. No, sweetheart. It’s me.” He pauses, much longer than she’s comfortable with, and tears begin to prick at her eyes. _What the hell is happening_? _Why_ is this happening? She feels so dirty now. Not at all sexy or empowered like she’d felt just seconds before he interrupted. 

“I haven’t been honest with you, Rey. About who I am. But I’m going to make this right, okay? I’m going to fix this.” 

“What are you saying?” she manages to ask, swallowing past the lump in her throat. 

“I’m saying...my name is Ben Solo, and I’m that guy you met at the club last night.”

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY SO!
> 
> Yes, this is where this written portion leaves off for now 🤣 But no, it’s not the end! There will be a resolution later. To find out where the plot is in the meantime (and what happens after Ben’s confession 👀), visit the tweet thread. Although I should warn you, something is up with Twitter tweet threads right now? But if you go to my profile, you should be able to see subsequent tweets in the thread.
> 
> Thanks for all the love!!


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